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Poem Word
Words wrung out from the years
Words ripped out from between old ears
Words once made sense so long ago
Mind those words that come with tears
Smiles caressing across the years
Smiles addressing lingering fears
Smiles that no longer make sense
Mind those smiles bracketed in tears
Wine glasses clinking in rhyme
Wine glasses filled in rhythm
Reds and whites up to the brim
The old sot, you can hardly see ‘em
What’s the word? That from you?
That smile? Is it really love full true?
Fill my glass…you choose the vintage
Drain my glass, but don’t leave me blue
Yes, you’re full in my head
And you may certainly lead me to your bed
Smiles with wine promise the very level best—
But you’ll just leave me with tears instead
Keep your eyes open and your heart engarde
Why, oh why must love be so blessed hard
My Ever Lovely
I fear it is too late for true love
Waiting on now broken yet bent knee.
Is it even possible to capture happily ever after?
How do I find she, my ever lovely, from Gurnee?
Callow gazes have passed over to gray hair
As the dimples sink beneath the aged wrinkles.
A once-charming visage is but only hinted at now,
Though sometimes the eye can conjure crinkles.
And children have come and soon spouses fled—
Those great matches of youth are like history, all dead.
Is it now our time to trip lightly and fancy free?
Can we meet for just breathing on the streets of Gurnee?
But the sun sets on our seekers of real love;
Knights errant stumble now when bending to knee.
Is it even possible to capture happily ever after?
How do I find she, my ever lovely, from Gurnee?
Look Away, Time
Once she was so pretty—
Now she tries to look not so old.
Can you still see her eyes sparkle
Beneath her hair of store-bought gold?
Have you found your one and only?
Hold on with all you’ve got,
Or like those who end up so lonely,
You may forget the grace you were taught.
He used to know so much—
Now he thinks he’s lost his place.
He still loves his son and family
Even though he’s not sure about my face.
Study as hard as you can
And master the skills you need,
But keep a hard eye on Time
Which flies by at a freight train’s speed.
I still think she’s a beauty,
Even with her store-bought hair.
And despite the wrinkles and the crinkles,
I love her; and the rest? I no longer much care.
So Lucky
I should be so lucky
I should feel so good
To be fully in love
And completely understood
You’re prettier than your picture
Nicer than your posts
I’d love you forever
On all and any of the best Southern coasts
I can harmonize with that
In any shower stall
Yes, put in your earplugs
Twouldn’t mind that at all.
I’d love to know the answer
I’d love to know your name
To be so fully in love
And to know you felt the same
I’m nicer than my picture
And darker than most posts
Let’s get mingled together
Oh, how the elder hippy boasts
Jezebel’s Halloween
The scarred foil yielded,
Merlot found the bottom where dregs lay;
A cork sealed again,
Words limbered as Fall rains fell all day.
No pictures were ever sent from Pearlington.
Another’s dream has left the Pass,
Uncommon memories fade;
Time to refill one’s paisley-stained glass.
The black cat dropped down
Licking a lank paw;
A last leaf spirals to stillness
Alone in Death’s maw.
That chill in the middle of the back
Mocks the dread in your gut;
The screech-shriek died in a jaw slack;
Not in fear, twas anything but.
A stab of lightening you will recall,
Lit the surprise awaiting us all—
Jezebel was alive!
Then, your last fall.
It was just a simple October,
A parceled out poor Saturday.
A scandal of rains hung low,
But things were going your way.
Of course you were invited!
You’d bought that ruby bottle;
The costume party hinted promise,
And the fun engine roared to full throttle.
The storm rains had burst forth
As all the corks let fly.
Twas warm in the foyer
And your love you did espy.
The oriel would be deserted,
So Jezebel led you away:
Promises yielded to plea;
Yes, you could stay.
Upriver the dam was holding
As the partygoers were off at last.
Yes, alone with your Jezebel—
Passion unleashed as costumes off-cast.
But no one heard the rush…
Addams’ Dam was no more.
The wall of water they say
Was high—35 feet or two score.
Awakening drowning atumble,
You and Jezebel tried to cling to bedclothes,
But no succor there would be found;
Swept away as flood’s torrent flows.
Finding at long last each other;
Fear full afloat while loss uplifted;
The roar of the Onion Falls called.
You knew, only one can be shifted.
Grabbing Jezebel one time last,
You kicked for the nearing shore.
Flinging with all your might…
Her lips never to taste evermore.
A stab of lightening lit your Jezebel:
Safe on a branch was your fair miss—
She made it!
She reached… as you embraced the abyss.
Witches each year prowl the precincts
In company with jack-o’-lantern’s snarl obscene.
But things won’t ever be the same,
Not for Jezebel’s Halloween.
Turn At 3509
So took the turn
To Hudson Valley Road,
Passed an embarrassment of bluebonnets
And a mite scandal of cactus,
Trying to find my true love’s grave.
So found myself back in Kingsland
Between two hills and five sighs;
Drove beyond ‘show pigs’ and llamaland
And there found the ‘not by much’ iron gate
Of the Eternal Rest Cemetery, to
Drop off my two rose bouquet and
Sit to have a talk with Carol Bell. (She never
Much cared for her married name) but she married the other one—
With a job, and a house, and good sense to settle down with
A Texas beauty with brains enough to pick steady over party-crazy with dark eyes.
Dark Eyes eventually mostly stopped crying but here I was ten years after with nice
Store-bought flowers and tried with caught-breath to say hey.
Got back on Park Road 4 for the roller coaster ride back to civilization, sorry there were
No deer about to justify the Warning: Deer signs along the road. Phone rang…
Back to work, passing the scandal of cactus and the embarrassment of bluebonnets….
Kitt
pueriles 